


Would you be like me--wanting to speak and not saying a word.

by amelioratedays



Category: GOT7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 13:57:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4669169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelioratedays/pseuds/amelioratedays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"It’s when Jackson’s away for filming and Youngjae’s lazing around in the Hong Kong male and their eldest member’s room, that he blurts out he’s lonely."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Would you be like me--wanting to speak and not saying a word.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly started this _all_ the way back then when they first got Coco and thought "OH! Let's write 'Markjae buys a little wee dog' fluff!" and then....my emo took over. Unbeta-ed.

"你會和我一樣嗎， 想説話又一言不發"  
（Would you be like me--wanting to speak and not saying a word.）

 

 

 

It’s when Jackson’s away for filming and Youngjae’s lazing around in the Hong Kong male and their eldest member’s room, that he blurts out he’s lonely. He goes silent the moment the words leave his mouth, and he blames himself for letting his guard down--being too comfortable and not wary enough to be mindful of the older male’s situation. Who is he to even _think_ about being lonely? He’s only dabbled in the life of a trainee for a month (where he definitely hasn’t found himself in the phase of wondering when and if he’ll ever make it) before he was called to the side, and informed that yes, he _will_ be debuting--and it will be soon. He’s more than lucky to be performing upon the stage in front of hundreds, living out his dream and aspirations.

 

In addition to the lack of suffering that he’s gone through, he’s also living in a situation where his parents are more than just a phone call away. Sure, it might be a strenuous trip (four hours idly sitting on a bus is too much to bear) but if and whenever he’s off, he could still go back to visit them and be back the very next day. It’s nothing like what Mark (and Kunpimook, and Jackson) have to go through--where their parents aren’t even in the same country as them. In Mark’s case, they aren’t even on the same continent--communicating amidst jam-packed schedules and conflicting time zones.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.” He says, shaking his head slightly and brushing his hair back, hoping that maybe Mark would skip over the subject. He really doesn’t expect the other to delve head first into it. “No, it’s okay. I get lonely too.” And the conversation closes, silence falling upon them as with almost all his interactions with Mark. It’s just that this silence is more akin to the awkward days of when he first met the older boy, and not the more comfortable silence of when they finally made it past initial barriers. Neither of them break the silence, and Youngjae is too aware of the fact that the only sounds he can hear are them breathing.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s a bit awkward after that night, at least on Youngjae’s part. Mark, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to notice. There’s barely a change in his demeanor and actions, but Youngjae still feels the weight of the air pressing down on his shoulders when he meets the older male’s eyes. But if Mark notices the way that Youngjae tenses and avoids his gaze, he doesn’t say anything. Then again, Mark doesn’t speak much in the first place and it only leaves Youngjae more apologetic than he was initially.

 

“You’re so quiet,” he whispers later when they take a break from practice. Mark’s settled beside him, leaning back against the cool surface of the mirrored walls. “I’m always quiet.” Mark replies, catching his gaze in the mirror across the room. “You, though. You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet these days.”

 

“No, I’m not.” He retorts, smoothing out the fabric of his sweatpants in an attempt to focus on something else.

 

“Are you still lonely?” Mark asks.

 

“No.” He replies without hesitation, “Can we just forget I ever said that?”

 

“If it bothers you, we can’t just pretend the problem doesn’t exist, Youngjae.” Mark says with a frown, hand reaching out to stop Youngjae’s from pulling at loose threads.

 

“There isn’t a problem, hyung.” He huffs. “It’s just me being silly.”

 

“Silly?”

 

“It’s just that,” he starts off, voice falling in volume as he continues, “when you pair everyone off, it seems that I’m always the odd one out.” When Mark doesn’t respond, he continues--because what else is courage but an upbuild of momentum.“There’s Jinyoung-hyung and Jaebum-hyung who’ve been together since day one. You and Jackson-hyung, bonding together with not one, but three languages. And then there’s Yugyeom and Bam Bam who’s always claiming to be each other’s best friend. So in the end, there’s just me.” Halfway through speaking, Youngjae wonders if he’ll regret saying all this. He probably would, as with all the other words he’s uttered and wanted to take back in his life. But it’s the first time that someone was there to _listen_ , where _he’s_ the one letting worries off his chest and not accepting someone else’s. (Though he really isn’t sure if this is even something to worry over.)

 

“Friends don’t work like that,” Mark says. “Friendship doesn’t only work in pairs, and just because there’s seven of us doesn’t mean anyone’s the odd one out. No one ever said friendships are like prime numbers.”

 

“That’s why I said it was just me being silly.” Youngjae mumbles, looking down at his hands. It’s not like he _doesn’t_ know that he shouldn’t be feeling this way, not when all of them are so friendly and accepting. But there’s just a part of lost time that leaves Youngjae feeling like he doesn’t _belong_ \--intruding upon what isn’t his. (And really, what is seven months compared with four years?)

 

He keeps his gaze down, but Youngjae could feel the older male’s gaze boring into the side of his head. He doesn’t have to look up to know that Mark’s looking at him with _that_ face--lips held in slight frown and brows furrowed whenever he’s concerned and upset, and all it does is tighten the knot in Youngjae’s stomach. “You kno--,” Mark starts, only to be cut off by Jaebum’s call of “Breaks over.”

 

And when Youngjae reaches out to take Mark’s hand to help him up, the older male simply tells him, “This conversation isn’t over.”

 

He wishes it was though.

 

 

 

 

 

There’s a slight change in the way Mark interacts with him after, pulling him into discussions and seating himself next to Youngjae whenever he can. In a way, Youngjae knows he should be relieved and comforted, but it only comes off as a type of pity that he doesn’t want.

 

“You don’t have to keep doing this, hyung.” He says one day, lowly on the side while the rest of the members are busy picking food off the menu.

 

“Doing what?”

 

“Being nice to me. Taking extra care of me. Whatever it is--I don’t need it.” He whispered harshly.

 

“I’m not b--”

 

“I know, but it feels like you are.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“It’s just me, but I can’t help but feel that way, you know?” Youngjae says dejectedly, rotating his cup, water condensing upon his fingertips.

 

Mark frowns, "I'm not pitying you, I'm not being nice to you because of that. I care for you, Youngjae and so does everyone else. I just want you to be happy."

 

"I am happy," Youngjae mutters.

 

"But you're lonely."

 

"That doesn't mean I can't be happy, hyung."

 

“I’m jus--”

 

And when Jackson calls them over to order their food, Mark’s voice is lost within the cacophony of the restaurant background. He doesn’t understand why every conversation with Youngjae ends up severed prematurely, frayed edges of thoughts he worked so hard to string together.

 

 

 

“I guess I’m just not one for words,” he reckons one night, staring up at the ceiling from his bed. A snort sounds from the bunk below, followed by Jackson’s retort of, “How’d you figure that one out?”

 

“It’s just that every conversation I try to start gets cut off prematurely,” Mark sighs, tucking himself further underneath his blanket.

 

“I see--wait, who are you trying to talk to?”

 

“Goodnight, Jackson.”

 

“Mark, wait wh--”

 

“--Night.”

 

 

 

 

 

It’s five in the morning when Mark stumbles into the living room barely awake to find Youngjae asleep on the couch. He walks over, crouching down to the younger’s eye level and tapping him on the shoulder. There’s no response from the younger boy--Mark honestly doesn’t expect one--the wind from the fan softly displacing Youngjae’s tousled hair. Mark taps him again, a little stronger this time, while calling his name. It’s a good few minutes before Youngjae starts to stir, eyes fluttering and lips opening to let out a small whine. “Let me sleep,” he slurs, taking his pillow and placing it above his head.

 

“Why aren’t you sleeping in your room?”

 

"It's too hot in there."

 

"Do you want coffee? I'll make you something to eat."

 

"Thanks," Youngjae replies, rubbing sleepily at his eyes and shifting to a more comfortable position on the couch.

 

"I'll call you when it's done."

 

"Mmh."

 

He doesn’t have to call Youngjae in the end, the younger male getting up as the various alarms within the apartment go off. He doesn’t quite recall when Youngjae started responding to alarm clocks. “What are you making?” The brunette questions, toothbrush dangling from his mouth. “Toast.” Mark says, fumbling to open the package of bread. “I want stew,” Youngjae says lazily, resting one arm on the counter while brushing his teeth. “I,” Mark says, pausing as he puts the bread into the toaster, “can only make toast. Take it or leave it.”

 

The toast is done by the time Youngjae returns, and Mark is at the counter pouring hot water into instant coffee mix. There’s a shift in atmosphere when Mark settles down at the living room table--silence freezing over as he places the mugs upon the glass tabletop. “Eat,” he gestures to the younger male, taking a piece of toast himself. He’s reciting rehearsed conversations, clock ticking softly in the background (it’s counting down, he thinks), “Do you want to sit next to me in the car?”

 

They end up sleeping rather than talking but Mark figures he shouldn’t dwell on it too much with the way Youngjae rests his head upon his shoulder, body curling into Mark’s side. “I’m lonely too, you know?” he whispers into the younger boy’s soft hair before closing his eyes as well for a small rest. And in his dreams he’s sitting on a playground swing beside Youngjae, asking him the same question that’s been on his mind for days. “Is it is less lonely when I’m with you?” Dream-Youngjae doesn’t respond, and all that Mark hears is the soft creaking of the swings.

 

 

 

 

 

Another day, another stage, where everything blurs into car rides and the constant hurrying by staff members. Nothing ever seems to stop in this routine--they’re always short on time. And when the day finally passes, coming to a full stop three o’clock in the morning, Mark still feels unwinded and tired enough to be exhausted but not enough to fully rest. They’re back against the mirrored walls, cool glass touching heated skin as Jaebum turns off the music for the night. There’s aching in his muscles, numbing his senses as the fan turns the sweat on his skin cold. Youngjae’s pressed up against his side, but he’s too tired to care.

 

“Hey,” he asks tiredly, breath slowly coming to a normal pace.

 

“Yes, hyung?”

 

“Want to get a pet?”

 

“Sure.”

 

 

 

 

 

Youngjae doesn’t expect Mark to be serious, and even if he is, he doesn’t expect the other’s to go along with his ideas. And yet, he finds himself being dragged out of a bed on a Thursday morning by the blonde male. “Come on, we’re getting a pup, Youngjae!” Mark pulls hard at the blankets, successfully separating them from the brunette male, harsh air coming in contact with warm skin. “We’re getting a pup!” He reiterates.

 

Youngjae ends up getting up, as reluctant as he is, mind barely awake at early morning--sun barely awake as it rests behind the clouds. “What pup?” He asks while getting onto the van, freshly brought bread in hand. He nearly stumbles as the car starts, breaking his fall while tumbling onto the car seat. “You said ‘yes’ when I asked you if you wanted a pet.” Mark says, scrolling around on his phone.

 

“I’m allergic.” Youngjae responds, munching on his breakfast.

 

“Then we’ll get one you’re not allergic to.”

 

“Do you think Jaebum-hyung will mind?”

 

“For what?”

 

“That I’m wanting a pet, when I’m the reason Nora can’t stay with us?” He says, shifting himself to rest himself onto their group’s oldest member.

 

“That’s two different things, and Jaebum’s always wanted a dog too.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“So, don’t worry about it. Everything’s settled.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There’s a weight that settles itself in Youngjae’s shoulders on the car ride home, Coco’s carrier lodged between Mark and him. Both he and Mark knows that a pet is responsibility, and the fact that Mark is willingly asking to shoulder such responsibility with him eases the weight into a force that keeps him grounded; stable. And when Mark settles Coco into her playpen, the slight feeling of a home (a family) enters his thoughts. Sitting by the pen, watching as Coco familiarizes with her new surroundings, he thinks back to Mark’s words the week before.

 

_“I’m lonely too, you know?”_

 

It’s nothing that he hasn’t thought of before, with the way Mark’s gaze lingers on the blackened screen after every video call to his family. The way he looks at the photos in his wallet before going onstage. It’s nothing new, but there’s something with the way that his ponderings are finally voiced that emphasizes the issue. Maybe this is how Mark had felt with him, wanting to help alleviate the issue but knowing the stir of melancholy will still be rooted within. There’s always a small blue box at the corner of his heart--unlocked and yet unopened--small bits seeping out and settling on the bottom of his cardiac muscle. And with every heartbeat, the fragments invert themselves, current running through.

 

Mark’s lying on his bed, half hidden by the bed frame, when Youngjae enters. Jackson is, yet again, gone for filming. He makes his way up the wooden ladder, bed frame creaking as his steps onto the bunk bed. Waving his phone, he frowns, “What’s this about ‘Owner 1’ and ‘Owner 2’?” Sliding beneath the silk sheets, he rests his head on Mark’s chest, “Why are you assigning us ranks?” He states as he types in the exact words in the comment section. Mark’s phone buzzes shortly after Youngjae hits send, and he laughs--tapping the ‘edit’ button on his post. “Fine, I’ll change it, owner ½. How’s that?”

 

“Better.” Youngjae beams, moving up so that he meets Mark face to face. “Thank you,” he says.

 

“For?”

 

“Everything.”

 

 

 

 

 

One shifts into two, morphs into three--and it becomes too often that Youngjae finds himself waking up with Coco nestled into his arm, and himself within Mark’s. “Are you two officially moving into the living room?” Jinyoung asks one night after he walks out to the living room to see Youngjae asleep, crouched in front of Coco’s cage and Mark napping close by on the sofa. “We’re keeping Coco company!” Youngjae retaliates over late night dinner, “What if she’s lonely?” He stresses, pulling the little white puppy in for a small peck.

 

Jinyoung rolls his eyes, “I’m just worried for your backs--always sleeping everywhere but your beds.”

 

“Please let our family be, hyung.”

 

“Tsk.”

 

 

 

 

 

“Is it less lonely when you’re with me?” Dream-Mark asks, stepping off the swing onto the fallen autumn leaves, blonde hair moving slightly in the wind. Dream-Youngjae’s looking at him with bright eyes and a soft smile. Mark wakes up just as Dream-Youngjae finally says _“yes”._

 

 

 

 

 

“I’m so glad I have you.” Youngjae says--in reality, no longer just in Mark’s dreams--as Mark pulls him into an embrace, his cheeks flushed and eyes looking down out of embarrassment.

 

“Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like my writing style is pretty foreign whenever I'm not writing about JJP, but I hope this wasn't too bland and mundane. :|


End file.
